


two boys; one bed

by parkjinchu



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, this is just life long love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjinchu/pseuds/parkjinchu
Summary: four stages in sanha's life that he's been in love with park minhyukthis is a work of fiction, and in no way represents the real lives of astro's members. in case of astro/fantagio/reasonable fan request, this fic will be taken downread full disclaimer on my profile





	two boys; one bed

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this without editing it as practice for a future socky ref fic. written from [this poem](http://drunklesbian.tumblr.com/post/148263368682/two-girls-one-bed-we-are-five-and-i-show-you-my)

_Five Years Old_

Sanha holds the doll in his hand, the action figure puffing out his muscular chest and standing strong and confident. A birthday present for his fifth birthday, he’d wanted this action figure for a long time. Excitedly, he presses the button on the back repeatedly, making the figure’s arm punch forward.

Minhyuk lay beside him on the bed, kicking his little legs against the mattress and letting them bounce back up. He rolls a matchbox car over the palm of his tiny hand, feeling the wheels slide over the lengths of his small fingers. “It’s cool!” He agrees, eyeing the doll in Sanha’s tiny hand.

The setting sun falls in through the window, illuminating the room with an orange glow. It shines over Minhyuk’s face and through the strands of his hair, and Sanha watches him carefully. He looks like an angel. Minhyuk’s hands create shadows in the shape of little chubby stars along Sanha’s quilt, and Sanha observes the silver lining along his skin.

“Can I play with it?” Minhyuk asks, voice cutting through Sanha’s ears and interrupting his thoughts.

Without complaint, Sanha hands him the toy, and Minhyuk’s lips curl into a broad grin. “Keep it!” he says, just so he can see that smile play on the boy’s lips a little longer.

Minhyuk’s eyes light up, and he laughs gently, muttering excited ‘thank-you’s. He shuffles over and wraps his arms around the small circle of Sanha’s waist, clutching him in a tight hug. The boy grows stiff in his arms for a moment, but can’t help but smile. Sanha feels a warm, bubbly feeling in his chest, like he’d just sipped on some cola.

 

_Eleven Years Old_

“Why does our math teacher always give us such hard homework?” Sanha asks, throwing his pencil onto the space of bed between he and Minhyuk. The other boy lay on his stomach, scratching his pencil into the corners of the pages in little doodles of Super-Man-S’s and dragons.

He shrugs, “Square roots aren’t hard, Sanha – we learnt them last year. I think you’re just lazy,” he laughs, and gives the boy’s shoulder a shove.

Sanha groans, rubbing the sore spot on his arm, and grabs his pencil again. The two sit in silence for a moment, swinging their legs back and forth and mumbling numbers to themselves under their breaths. Minhyuk finishes the first page of his work, when he turns to Sanha, still on the third question, “Hey, do you like any of the girls from our school?”

His eyes are inquisitive and his gaze is piercing. Sanha feels a weird churning to his stomach, as if it was rolling inside of him. He feels his heart quicken in pace a little, but he isn’t quite sure why. Sanha pushes the strange feeling away with a shake of his head. No, he doesn’t like any of the girls from their school.

“You know Yoo-Jung?” Minhyuk asks, gently placing his pencil in the spin of his book. Sanha doesn’t have time to reply, before Minhyuk chats about how they read a fantasy book together in the far corner of the school library where the mean old librarian couldn’t see them. How she’d kissed his cheek after school, and how her lips were soft and left a little sticky patch on his face from her strawberry lip-gloss. How he’d borrowed his mother’s phone to talk to the girl.

Sanha doesn’t know Yoo-Jung, and he isn’t quite sure he wants too.

A few days later, Sanha walks into the library, and in the far corner where the fantasy books stack higher than Sanha can reach, he spots Minhyuk and a girl with two long black plaits. They’re holding hands, little fingers laced together, a book between them. The librarian can’t see them in this spot, and Sanha feels like there’s an angry fire in his belly.

 

_Sixteen Years Old_

The pair are laying side by side on Sanha’s bed, singing along to a song playing on Sanha’s phone. They both read a comic book that Minhyuk had picked up on their walk home together, turning the pages after checking the other has finished reading.

Minhyuk’s phone starts to ring and he rolls over to pull it out of his bag. Glancing at the screen, he smiles, and urges Sanha to turn the music down. The boy carefully closes the comic and grabs his phone, “Who is it?” He asks quietly, turning the song down, as Minhyuk waits for the lines to connect.

“My girlfriend,” he mutters, and then his eyes light up, and Sanha hears a feminine voice on the other end. Minhyuk laughs at everything she says, and he tells some jokes and Sanha can hear her tinny laugh through the speakers. Minhyuk invites the girl to the park in the evening, and she happily accepts the invitation, which makes the teen grin widely. He hangs up the phone with an ‘I Love You’ and clutches the device to his chest.

Sanha watches the sun shimmer over Minhyuk’s skin, making him shine like gold. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” he whispers quietly, hurt tracing the tone of his words.

Minhyuk shrugs, “I thought you knew,” he says, and responds to a text.

Sanha feels his throat go dry. “I-I’m gonna go get a drink,” he mutters, stumbling off the bed and hurrying away to the kitchen. His hands are shaky when he fills the glass and pulls it to his lips, but the water sits in his mouth and won’t slide past the lump in his throat.

The boy leaves with a spring in his step, and Sanha curls under the blankets. He wonders whether he felt so upset because Minhyuk kept his girlfriend secret from him, or simply because Minhyuk had a girlfriend.

Later that night, there’s a knock at the window, and Sanha pokes his head over the quilt covers. Minhyuk stands by the window pane, bathed in white moonlight. He looks like an angel. His shadow stretches long and tall into the room and over Sanha’s figure, and Sanha observes the silver lining along his skin. Minhyuk looks as he does on the day of Sanha’s fifth birthday, angelic and beautiful, but unreachable.

Sanha scrambles out of bed and opens the window for the boy to slide inside. His presence brings with it the faintest scent of beer and cigarette smoke, but Sanha ignores it, hands him a spare pair of pyjamas, and lets him under the blankets. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the space between them small, but still too distant.

Minhyuk’s eyes are shining. His smile is glowing. _He_ is glowing. “Sanha, have you ever kissed anyone?” He whispers into the dead of night.

Sanha looks over at him, gaze meeting his. He lets his sight flutter over the curl of Minhyuk’s lips before climbing back up his face again. He shakes his head. The other boy explains how good it feels to kiss someone, how their lips feel like a perfect fit against his own, warm and soft. How he felt this girl’s tongue, and he giggles as he retells the tale.

His words leave a bitter taste in Sanha’s mouth. When Minhyuk falls into a peaceful sleep, Sanha shuffles closer and feels his body heat against his skin. He presses a soft kiss to Minhyuk’s exposed shoulder, in the spot between the end of his collarbone and the curve of his arm.

It doesn’t feel as nice as Minhyuk said it would, but Sanha didn’t have Minhyuk’s lips between his own. Guilt feels like a stone in the pit of Sanha’s belly, weighing him down.

 

_Twenty Years Old_

“You’re allowed to cry,” Sanha tells him, as the boy curls up under Sanha’s blankets.

Minhyuk takes this as permission, and begins to sob. A girl he’d fallen in love with him had left him. Minhyuk had a habit of falling hard and fast, for girls who didn’t appreciate him. Sanha feels terrible, and hates every one of those girls as they come and as they go.

He brings the boy into his arms, patting Minhyuk’s head gently and rubbing his back. Minhyuk mumbles into his chest, long sentences of self-hatred and deprecation. Sanha can feel tears soaking into his t-shirt, and his best friend’s hands clutching at his back. “It’s not you,” he says, and Minhyuk sniffles quietly and tucks his head closer to Sanha.

Sanha speaks paragraphs and tales, and gives a lengthy lecture to Minhyuk. He goes on and on, about how perfect and amazing and beautiful Minhyuk is, and how none of those girls deserved him or his love. He tells him these things, until they’re both crying under Sanha’s blankets, holding each other tightly.

When Sanha drifts off to sleep, eyelids sticky and heavy and puffy, he dreams of fields with long green grass and a warm breeze. He dreams of Minhyuk by his side, holding his hand, and dancing with him.

When he wakes up, he feels Minhyuk’s arms still clutched tightly around him. He blinks his eyes open, meeting his best friend’s gaze. Minhyuk’s stare is fierce, a little confused, but desperate. His chest rises and falls against Sanha’s own, and his fingers curl in the fabric of Sanha’s shirt.

Something in the way he says Sanha’s name is different. It’s quieter, fond, and longing. He shimmies upwards, so their faces are level, and Sanha feels his heart jump up to his throat. Minhyuk draws closer to him, so their faces are bare centimetres apart. “Min-,” he begins, but is silenced by the press of the boy’s lips against his.

They kiss, lips fit together just as Minhyuk had explained it some four years ago. Sanha giggles when he feels Minhyuk’s tongue against his own, which makes Minhyuk pull back and laugh. Sanha chases those lips, and presses them back up against his own. Sanha feels like everything in his life has clicked into place, as he holds Minhyuk in his grasp and kisses all over his face.

Minhyuk is shining, under the morning sun, wrapped in Sanha’s arms. Minhyuk’s grin is bright, his pink lips curved to frame around his smile. Sanha feels like he had when he first fell in love, fifteen years ago: warm and bubbly, all along his abdomen, and especially in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> thnks 4 reading (feedback if possible?? id really like to know bc i struggle writing socky and im planning a socky ref fic so i need some advice keke)  
> hmu on my tumblr @parkjinchu and we can cry together about how good astro is at everything


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